Insanity
by Chuck Norris Worshipper
Summary: ""Don't move!" I opened my eyes and went cross eyed as I focused on the thin, round stick that was centimeters from poking the bridge of my nose. ...Is this for real? I slapped it away without thinking." After enduring her friend's psycho Russian ritual, Rebekah finds herself surrounded by loons... or somehow inside JK Rowling's Hogwarts in the 70's. But that's crazy, right?


"Don't move!"

I opened my eyes and went cross eyed as I focused on the thin, round stick that was centimeters from poking the bridge of my nose between my eyes. My eye twitched. _Is this for real? _Without thinking, I slapped the stick out of my face. "What's the matter with you? You don't just—" I stopped whining abruptly when I met the pale blue eyes of a chubby blonde boy.

His weakness and obvious fear only infuriated me further.

"Is there a _reason _that you shoved your fancy stick in my face?" I demanded frostily. My senses were dim and groggy, and I pushed for more fuller awareness as I pulled myself out of my slumped position against the wall.

"D-don't move!" The boy squeaked, shoving the stick back in my face.

"Get that out of my face," I complained, slapping it away. "And what do you mean, don't move? What are you going to do about it?" I asked as I struggled to get myself standing. I felt slow and my mind was moving sluggishly. What's wrong with me? Where am I? "Going to poke me with your stick?"

"It's not a stick," The boy protested. "It's... It's a wand."

I stared at him for a moment then laughed disbelievingly. "Uh, okay? You're clearly pyscho."

His forehead crinkled in confusion. "You're muggle?"

"And you're a Harry Potter fan," I said in amazement, and he stared at me with open shock before he shoved the wand back in my face while his face hardened in determination. When he looked at me like that, he looked _almost_ 14. "Stop _putting that in my face_!" I growled, slapping it again.

"You're lying!" He declared. "And if you're not careful, I'll curse you." He said bravely.

"Uh. Sure. With that stick of yours, I suppose," I nodded at his "wand." "It's pretty authentic, I gotta say. Did you get it from Harry Potter World down in Orlando?"

He looked at me, confused. "Where's Orlando? Harry Potter World?" He echoed.

"You're stupid," I said callously. "Now where am I?" I peered around the room, and a wave of familiarity washed over me, but I have no idea why. I was sure I'd never been in a room like this before in my life. Despite the regal four poster beds with velvet curtains and a very classic fireplace in the corner, the room was still obviously not elegant in the least when you couldn't even see what the floor was made of through the piles of dirty laundry, books, papers, and total trash. It was disgusting.

Maybe that's why it feels so familiar. It's just like my room at home.

"Hogwarts," He said. "Like you wouldn't know. How did you get in here?"

"I kind of just woke up," I said dryly.

"Very confusing—and very brilliant of you," He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. "I have to admit, you had me a little startled for a moment. If you'd snuck into our room, why fall asleep rolled up into a ball against the wall and not on our comfortable beds? You almost appeared innocent. But then, like the good wizard that I am, I remembered my Defense Against the Dark Arts training." He declared arrogantly, sticking out his chest proudly.

"You're a psycho," I said flatly. "This is really sad. You know that Harry Potter _doesn't exist_?"

"I... I don't know who Harry Potter is," He admitted, almost embarrassed.

"You'd say that, wouldn't you? That would mean that you'd have to admit that you're delusional," I said. "And by the way, have you worked out that I'm muggle or a dark wizard?"

"Obviously not muggle," He said. "A muggle wouldn't know what a dark wizard is."

"Obviously, you're wrong. I'm a muggle. And you're a muggle. We're _all_ muggles—every single one of us. _Magic doesn't exist_."

He looked at me like I was insane, and he shoved his wand back in my face. "You're insane," He said softly, almost in awe of being in the presence of a loony.

"Excuse me?" I demanded, my voice raising in pitch. "And I thought that we were past this—_get your wand out of my face_. The only thing I'm threatening is your grip on reality, which is already slipping, I might add. I'm not a threat otherwise in the least." I was about to not just slap the blasted thing but take it so that he could no longer rudely stick it in my face when the door busted open behind him.

"Wormy, good news," A voice joyfully carolled. "Evans has agreed to—" The guy stopped dead in the doorway, looking at me in undisguised confusion. "Am I interrupting something?" He said uncertainly, inching backwards. Unlike the chubby blonde in front of me, he was at least 6 foot 2, quite lanky with thick, messy black hair and brown eyes behind square glasses. Uh, _hot_.

In a kind of nerdy way.

I slapped the wand out of my face. "No, you're helping. Tell this loon that magic doesn't exist and to stop sticking his stick in my face."

The guy looked at me for a long moment. "Who are you, exactly?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "That isn't the school uniform, but you look our age."

You mean between 13 and 17? So are most teenagers. I suppose he could be suggesting that he and this runty blonde are the same age... Which I guess I can believe. Not everyone can be supermodel gorgeous and tall... Poor "Wormy."

"Is this some huge roleplaying thing for Harry Potter geeks?" I demanded.

"Who's Harry?" He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"You guys are insane," I gawked at him. I guess I can understand that blonde's need to escape from reality—after all, he's got that acne problem and he looks like he's 14 and talks in that awful impression of a British accent, but this guy? The more I look at him, the more I see the strong muscles on his arms and beneath his shirt, the sexy confidence that screams, _I'm sexy and I know it._This guy's not a loser.

But he's just as insane as "Wormy."

"Thank you?" He said, still confused.

"It's not a compliment. She's a muggle who knows a lot about us, apparently," Wormy said. "Prongs, what if... What if she's an escaped loon from St. Mungos?"

"Or she's playing a joke on you," The guy rolled his eyes.

"I'm not playing a joke on anyone! In fact, I'm fearing for my life. You guys are insane," I said flatly. "Is this a facility for the insane? Do they think _I'm _insane?"

"Here, let's go speak to the Headmaster," Prongs said. "I'm sure we can get this all straightened out. I'm James, by the way."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not as in James Potter, I hope?"

The guy grinned. "Guilty as charged. Why? You heard of me?"

"I've heard of James Potter. Not you, though," I wrinkled my nose at him disdainfully. "Alright, let's go see the man in charge—the, what was it you said? Headmaster?" I felt hope bud in my chest. I was going to get this straightened out! These loons had to have someone in charge of them.

"To Headmaster Dumbledore," James nodded.

My hope popped and disappeared. "Right," I said doubtfully.

I'm in for it now.

_And this is all ANNA'S FAULT._

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness crashed over me, overwhelming me, and then it all went black as my memory returned...

* * *

_FLASHBACK THAT IS_ BETTER_ OFF NOT ITALISIZED _

"It'll work, guys!" Anna insisted in her best whine. We all shot her dirty looks as her voice reached new pitches that shouldn't be humanly possible.

"No, it won't." I picked up the pillow I'd been leaning on and threw it on her. The couch was much less comfortable, but the squeal she emitted was rather satisfying.

"Bekah!" She looked at me with big Bambi eyes like I'd kicked a puppy.

"Oh, come on. It was just a pillow." I rolled my eyes.

"Who wants to play Black Ops?" Mary asked. Instantly, we brightened; although we were downright horrible at it, we enjoyed screaming and throwing the controllers at the wall when a zombie snuck up on us. We liked the zombie section because the zombies couldn't shoot back—all they could do was groan and grunt while they ran at alarming speeds and succeeded in eating us.

"Guys!" Anna interrupted Mary's half-hearted attempt to distract us. "Come on, it'll be so cool—"

"For the last time, Anna!" I snarled. I knew that this would not be the last time. "It won't work."

"It will!" She whined. "My mom did it when she was little, and her mother before that, and her mother before tha—"

"Anna, do you really think we're going to waste 10 seconds of our valuable time to prove that your weird Russian folklore is based on nothing and all the females in your family are insane?" I glared. Mary and Martha turned to each other and began to gesture wildly using their secret language in which they use their hands, not their mouths. It looks pretty dumb, but they seem to be having a lot of fun because they keep laughing every few seconds.

Anna was silent, processing this—which was never a good sign. It meant that she might make an intelligent argument. I braced myself to be convinced. "...Well, it's not like we're doing anything important right now..."

"That is... completely true." I realized. "Alright, guys, lets humor Anna's stupid card trick."

"Hey. It's not stupid, it's—"

"Stupid." I interrupted her curtly. I'm usually in a much better mood and far less abusive (actually, this is how I am all the time), but if there's anything I hate more than boredom, it's boredom on a Friday night surrounded by my best friends. How pathetic is that? I have everything I need for an interesting night, and I still get bored.

Anna didn't argue because she was getting what she wanted. "Okay, everyone, get on the floor and sit in a circle."

I dragged myself out of my comfortable seat, and Martha followed suit with that obedient look on her face that reminded me of a dog. Up until the age of 12, Martha's only friends were the dogs her parents breed and sold rather pricily, and because of that, she'd taken many doggy attributes. If you spoke sternly and showed her who was boss, she did exactly what you said. This was perfect for a bully like me. But Martha was getting smart and realized that I wouldn't actually act on my threats, but if I kept a straight face, I could confuse and scare her a little.

We sat cross-legged in a circle, our knees touching ("Why do they have to be touching?" Martha whined. She was uncomfortable with human contact. "Because we do, alright?" Anna had glared right back), but our circle wasn't complete because Mary hadn't moved from her comfortable arm chair. My twin sister had this look on her face like she thought that we were idiots. She probably did.

"I'm not going to sit next to you guys and touch knees." She snorted in disgust.

Anna's eyes widened to a new level of bug-eyed. Oh. Crap. Here comes the mega-whine reserved for Mary, delivered by the one and only Anna Jade McDermott. "Maaaaaaaarrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyy y..."

"No."

And just when you thought Anna's eyes couldn't get wider... "Maaaaaaaarrrrryyyyyyyyyyy!" She whined in a mixture of annoyance, begging, and outrage.

"No."

"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr rryyyyyyyyyyy!"

"This is pointless. I'm not going to."

"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA—" Anna sucked in a deep breath then continued her whine, "—AAAAAAAARRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY—"

"Oh, for pete's sake, humor her." I snapped at Mary. Mary stared at me for a long time, and Anna went silent. Who died and made you ruler over me? But, Mary was above childish pride, so with a sigh, she got off of the armchair and took a seat on rug. Anna tried to get close enough to touch knees, but Mary's icy glare froze her in her tracks.

"Don't touch me, okay?" Mary ordered. "If we're going to do this, then we're not going to touch."

"But that's the way you do it! You touch!" Anna insisted.

"No."

Anna's eyes widened to prepare herself for the mega-whine. She opened her mouth to begin, but Mary cut her off.

"No."

"Hey, guys! I found the nutella!"

The fifth to our group, Avery, entered the room holding a small bottle of nutella that she was eating by hand. I stood up. "Avery, put that back. It's not yours."

"But I'm hungry! And why are you guys touching knees?" She nodded at Anna and Martha. Mary gave them a pointed look. Martha began to scoot away awkwardly, but Anna's hand slammed down on Martha's leg, keeping it there.

"Ow!" Martha shot Anna a dirty look.

Mary slapped Anna's hand. "Don't touch her. In fact—move over. I'm sitting between you guys because you keep messing with Martha." Every dog has its owner, and Mary was that owner. Anna and I usually spent our time trying to kick the dog when Mary wasn't watching.

I was more concerned with Avery. "Put down the nutella, wash your hands, and come join the circle or else we're doing it without you."

Avery dipped her entire hand in nutella. "Why? Are we doing that stupid Russian trick that Anna's been wanting to try on us forever?"

"Actually," Anna's eyes widened in excitement, "it originated in Great Britia—"

"Of course it did." I muttered.

"It did!" Anna insisted with her best whining voice. I laughed, but then turned back to business with Avery.

"Avery Lynn, put that nutella away! It's not yours!" I growled at her, but Avery simply did not listen to me. This is when it comes in handy to have a total buzz-kill as a sister. "Mary, stop her."

Mary lifted her attention from Martha for the first time, and when she saw Avery, her face darkened with disgust. "Did you just stick your entire hand into my nutella?"

Avery nodded, licking her hand.

Mary jumped to her feet, and Avery's eyes widened. She began to run away, but Mary was right behind her. Trusting the situation to be taken care of, I sat back down. In a few minutes, Avery peacefully entered the room with clean hands and with Mary right behind her. They squeezed into the space between Anna and Martha, but they made a point of not touching.

"Alright, Anna." I announced. "Do your stupid trick."

Anna's eyes widened. "It's not—"

"Just do it." Mary interrupted.

Anna nodded after a moment's hesitation. "Alright, everyone hold out their hands." She instructed, and we did as we were told. I intentionally hit Martha with my hand "on accident."

"Owie!" Martha frowned at me.

"What?" I blinked innocently.

"Bekah," Mary growled.

"What?" I repeated. "I didn't—"

"You hit me!" Martha whined.

"I did not—"

"Guys!" Anna interrupted. "We were kind of in the middle of something."

"We were?" Avery asked blankly. She had the attention span of a goldfish.

"Yes, we were. Okay, hands back in the circle—no hitting, Bekah."

"What? Me?" I gasped. "I didn't hit her—" I was almost beginning to believe myself—I am one heck of a liar.

"Okay, now, just kind of... bounce to the beat." Anna ordered.

"Bounce to the beat?" Mary repeated skeptically.

"Yeah, like this." Anna bounced heavily.

"Gross," I laughed. "That's weird."

"You have to do it for it to work, guys!" Anna whined.

"Just like we had to touch?" Mary rolled her eyes.

"Yes!"

"Yeah, right. Whatever." Mary sighed. "Okay, everyone. Bounce."

Awkwardly, our group of friends "bounced" without a beat, and Anna nodded approvingly. "Alright, guys, whatever you do, don't stop bouncing, don't speak, and don't interrupt. Okay?"

"Just like we have to bounce and touch?" Mary pointed out.

Anna narrowed her eyes. "Yes." Then she relaxed, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. We stifled are giggles for the sake of Anna's creepy ritual. Then Anna opened her mouth, her eyes popping open, and she began to chant.

But I can' t tell you what she was chanting because it was in another language. It wasn't smooth and effortless, either—Anna really had to think about it. That meant she was speaking in Russian. Although her mother and grandmother were both from Russia and spoke it fluently (duh) and raised Anna speaking it, Anna couldn't speak it herself. She could understand it, but since she had always answered in English when talked to by her mother, Anna never learned to speak the language.

We were trying, however. Even though we were practically grimacing as we held in the laughter, we kept bouncing and swaying. Finally, Anna stopped. "Okay, it's done."

We stared at her, freezing mid-bounce. "Excuse me?" I demanded.

"It works overnight," Anna shrugged.

"...That was such a waste of time." I mumbled. We all stood up and stretched, hoping to shake of the weirdness of the situation.

"But you wouldn't have done anything better instead, right?" Anna asked hopefully.

"Actually, yes. I could have done this." I picked up the pillow I'd thrown at her earlier and chucked it directly at her face. When the pillow fell, her face was horrified.

"_Beeeekah_!" Anna whined.

* * *

_It's cold... Very, cold... Where am I? Is this... a dream?_

_A bright light flashes in front of me. I follow it, uncertain, stumbling on the uneven ground in the jagged darkness. "Hello?" I called. "Is there anybody there?"_

_Am I asleep? How did I get here?_

_**Halt**__._

_I jolt to a stop, a shiver rocking down my spine. "Hello?" I called again. There's another blinding flash of light directly in front of me, and then all is dark. Suddenly, I'm sure that I'm blind, but then a red glow, small as a burning ember in the fire pit, flickers in the darkness. _

_**Rebekah Grace Arrington**__, the flame seems to whisper, but it reverberates through my bones and tightens my muscles. __**You have Summoned**__._

_Summoned? What does that mean? "I don't understand."_

**_You have Summoned to go where you do not Belong. A new place has been found for you_****_._**

_What? "I don't understand!" I repeated, growing frightened._

_**The Price must be Paid.**_

_The flame began to fade, and so did its heat. I hadn't realized how warm it was till the fire began to die out. "Don't—don't go!" I choked out, suddenly scared of being alone._

_But there was nothing I could do as the light dwindled back into an nearly-invisible ember. It flickered for a moment in the icy air before it was snuffed out. An invisible wind picked up, and I was entirely alone in the freezing darkness._

_"Hello?" I yelled. "Anyone?" My heart began to pick up a few paces. "Hello?" I began to run. "Is anyone there?! Hello?!"_

_"Don't move!" Someone yelled._

_Huh? The new voice sounded—no, _felt_—like a disruption. Something was wrong... Something was—_

END OF FLASHBACK

* * *

When I came too, the only thing I really noticed was that I was being carried. And I did the sensible thing: I panicked. With my heart still pounding heavily from the sudden return of my memories, I flailed wildly. The strong arms around me lost their grip, and I crashed into the floor on my back.

My eyes bugged out of my skull as light exploded behind my eyes and my vision fuzzed out and went grey. I gasped shortly, unable to breathe after having all the breath whooshed out of me so forcefully. Tears pricked my lids as I went completely still, trying to focus only on breathing.

My blood roared dully, and for a time, all I could hear was my erratic heart in my ear on top of loud, confusing noise that I couldn't make sense of. After an eternity, my eyes focused and I realized I was staring at a ceiling. Of what, I had no idea-even though I couldn't make sense of it in the least, I still felt a rush of familiarity. Deja vu?

And then my hearing returned.

"—was I supposed to know she'd wake up?!"

"Is she okay?"

"Of course she's not okay, you _dropped her on the stone floor_—"

"Is she even _alive_?"

"Oh my gosh, you _killed her_!"

"I'm going to go to Azkaban!"

"You're _so screwed_."

"My life was only just beginning..."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. I understand that you guys are doing that panicking thing, but she's obviously _not_ dead."

"How would _you_ know, Moony? Do _you_ have experience with corpses that you've neglected to tell us about? Cause, from where I'm standing, she looks pretty dead."

"Shut up, James. And you're not even looking at her."

And then realization dawned as the connection was finally made. Woefully, I stared up at the ceiling while morons bickered about whether I was alive or not without actually checking. "I'm _still here._"

* * *

_Reviews are lovely and inspire updates, and I'll need inspiration in order to find time to write when I'm so busy~_

_Interesting bit: this idea stems from something I wrote a year ago, and while bored this afternoon, I decided to change the plot and direct it towards my favorite trouble makers ;3 So, part of this writing is comes from a YEAR ago almost exactly, and then the rest comes from today! Coolness.  
_


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